A Faire to Remember
by KricketWilliams
Summary: While visiting a Renaissance Faire, life turns more complicated for Morgan and Garcia, and Reid and Prentiss. M/G and Reid/Prentiss For my Re/P friends . Pretty fluffy. I don't own a thing.
1. Chapter 1

_AN: This story is dedicated to my dear friend, Naidoo, who came to visit me recently. We went to a festival just like this! Thanks, honey, for traveling to see me...I've been chirping happily ever since...Just a little fluff between Reid/Prentiss (Not my usual) and Morgan/Garcia..._

**Chapter 1**

It was a normal Friday afternoon, end of the workday, like always. Most of the team had already left for the weekend, since they'd put in so many hours in the field, leaving just Penelope and a few others behind to finish up some paperwork compliance to keep Strauss and the other bigwigs happy.

At least, it had _appeared_ to be a normal day.

She'd been in the middle of typing a final submission, when something made Penelope look up and do a double take out her door. What on Earth was that? She stood, unable to believe her eyes. Was she seeing things? That couldn't have been what she thought it was. She peaked out her door...and saw that she hadn't been mistaken.

Spencer Reid had just hurried past her lair, dressed like an elf, complete with green tights, boots, tunic shirt, and a felt hat with a feather in it.

Curiosity killed the Penelope. "Reid!" she called out, rushing after him as fast as she could go in her four inch heels. Those shoes did not help her case; Reid had quickly retreated down the hallway and disappeared into the stairwell.

Confused and questioning this oddity, Penelope turned back to her office and flipped her phone on. She quickly dialed her number one on her speed dial.

"Hey, baby."

"Why would Reid be dressed like an elf?" she asked.

"What?" Derek chuckled. "Woman, have you been drinking and you didn't invite me? Shame on you..."

"No, silly," she answered quickly. "I'm still at work. I know what I saw; Reid raced past here, decked out in an elf costume, so quick, he was like a green flash."

She could hear Derek's barely restrained mirth. "Sweetheart, I have _no_ idea why he'd be dressed like an elf. That's damned funny. Aren't they short? Or is that just the Keebler® kind?"

She contemplated that for a moment. "No, I think you're right. They're little."

"He's taller than me; he'd be one big ass elf." He paused, and then asked, "Are you sure it was him?"

She sighed exasperatedly. "Yes, it was him. I may wear glasses, my lover, but I am not blind."

"Hush, sugar. I believe you," he said, still chuckling. "We'll find out on Monday."

"Love bug, we need to do this delicately," she warned with caution. "No attacking."

"Of course," he said dismissively, before switching the subject. "You coming over tonight?"

"Uh huh. I just need to get the Pad Thai, and I'm there."

"All right, P. Love you," he said, causing her heart to skip a beat, like it always did when he said those words to her.

"I love you, too."

* * *

><p>Penelope was going to shoot Derek. The first words out of his mouth when Reid walked into the round table room were, "Hey, pretty boy! What was up with the Gandalf outfit on Friday?"<p>

She could literally see Reid's internal trap slam shut. She pinched Derek's thigh under the table, hard.

"Gandalf?" Reid asked, both eyebrows up, after he'd regained his composure. "You must've been mistaken. I wouldn't dress like Gandalf." He shrugged coolly. "Must've been some other genius."

_Oooh, very nicely played_, Penelope thought. Unlike years ago, Reid was no longer so easy to bait and tease. Morgan seemed to forget that; Penelope knew that Derek would never see that progression; he would always be the antagonistic older brother, no matter how old Reid got.

Still, she had to be on Derek's side in this situation—like in most. She was dying to know what the deal was. However, she knew she needed a different plan of attack.

"Reid, I saw you," she asked, smiling softly at him with curiosity. "You were dressed all in green...just like an elf. What was going on?"

He met her eyes, and she could see the war in his head. Eventually, like she'd hoped, he cracked.

"I wasn't an elf," he grumbled. "I was Robin Hood."

"Ha! You were dressed like Gandalf!" Morgan crowed.

"I was Robin Hood!" Reid hissed defensively. "Besides that, Gandalf isn't even an elf. They'd given him one of the rings, but if you—"

"Did you just say Robin Hood?" JJ asked, walking in to the room. "Why were you dressed like Robin Hood, Spence?"

Reid groaned and sunk further into his chair, like he wished the floor would open up and swallow him whole.

"Do tell," Prentiss added, following JJ into the room with a smirk, and Reid's groan turned into a growl of frustration.

"Very well," he said, sitting up and sighing. "I know none of you will let this go until I tell you. I am in a human chess tournament at the Renaissance Faire."

"Human chess?" JJ asked.

"Oh, I know that!" Emily replied in an excited tone of voice. "That's where people dress up like the players on a chess board, and they move and battle and..." She trailed off as Derek stared at her. "What?"

"How in the hell would you know that?" Derek asked, teasing Emily's poor inner geek. Every once in a while, Prentiss let her show...adorable thing that she was.

Em's cheeks flushed. "I used to do stuff like that when I was younger."

Reid ignored Derek's chuckle and addressed Emily, "That's exactly it. I am doing it for charity. There's a big brother/big sister program in the area that I'm helping. I'm not a player, per se; I'm the chess master."

"Versus the _Sheriff of Nottingham_?" Penelope asked, genuinely curious.

Reid laughed. "Very astute, Garcia." He began explaining more. "It was only for a few weekends in September, but then I kept winning matches. Now, I'm there until the Faire ends."

"When is that?" JJ asked, and Penelope could tell from the tone in her voice, there was more to that question than meets the eye.

"This weekend is the last one," he said with a sigh. "I'm going to miss it. It has been a lot of fun."

"Doesn't give us much time, does it?" JJ asked, smiling over at Penelope and Emily.

"We could scrounge something up," Emily added, completely on board.

Reid and Morgan both looked confused, prompting Reid to ask, "What are you people talking about?"

"Will would go. We can bring Henry, and he would love it," JJ gushed. "He likes being outdoors."

"I think Kevin would probably go," Penelope added. She and Kevin had been growing apart; she hadn't been talking very much to him lately and didn't know for sure if he'd want to go. "I could find tights for him."

Reid flushed pink this time. "They're not tights! They're hosen," he grumbled.

"That would be great!" Prentiss added, ignoring Reid. "All of us could go in costume."

"Hot Stuff?" Penelope asked hopefully, smiling at Derek. It was her most convincing smile. "I can find a costume for you, too. A swashbuckler, or a knight, or-"

"Oh, no," he said, shaking his head. "_Hell_, no. I am not going to this nerd fest for any amount of money."

"Come on, sugar lips," Penelope pleaded. "To support Reid." Penelope pouted, but trying dramatically to change his mind. She really wished he'd go; everything was more fun with Derek. "You'd get to be with me, too..."

"No, baby," he said staunchly, and she felt her heart ache just a bit. "I got some houses I need to work on, which is more important than me prancing around in costume."

She couldn't keep the disappointment out of her voice as she whined, "Can't you work on them another-"

"Okay, team," Hotch interrupted, coming in. "Enough talk about men in tights—"

"Hosen!" Reid growled.

Hotch chuckled. "Let's get to work."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

_AN: Thanks so much for the reviews, alerts, and interest in this story...This chapter is mostly Penelope, but we get set-up for further events!..._

"This...isn't...going...to—" Penelope paused for a moment to pant, her entire torso being constricted and squeezed of air "—fit!"

"Yes, it is, dear," the elderly woman in the costume shoppe said, yanking the ties of the corset with surprising strength one more time. Penelope nearly landed on her bottom with the mighty tug the woman gave her. "This will be perfection on you."

Penelope felt nearly purple with lack of air. "This...this..."

"Lean forward, milady, and let your breasts fall out like a graceful waterfall," the woman said in a sing song voice, "and then settle them back in on top."

Bend over? She was in a steel-boned corset; she could barely breathe, much less bend. Lord, this was miserable. She felt like an absolute sausage, stuffed into a casing.

"Forward!" the woman snapped, and Pen bent at the waist, feeling her breasts spilling upward and outward. When she stood again, the woman exclaimed, "Perfect!"

As Penelope looked in the mirror, once she could comfortably breathe again, she was a bit shocked at what she saw. She was wearing a dark, midnight blue, full peasant skirt with a maroon underskirt, a full, lacy peasant blouse of white, and a black and blue silk brocade corset over the top of the dress. Her breasts were pushed up by the corset, so that she had two perfect ivory mounds peaking over the black lace. She'd piled her hair on her head in a mass of loose curls that morning, and had fastened it with some flowered pins she'd had.

She looked every ounce the Renaissance tavern wench...and she felt very sexy, too.

"You are going to have every man melting for you here with those assets, my dear," the woman remarked with a grin, obviously proud of the way Penelope looked.

Penelope's self-confidence was dwindling today. She'd broken up with Kevin. They'd had a fight that morning...

"_I'm going, but I never feel that comfortable around them, Penny," he said. _

_In Kevin speak, "them" was her team. She sighed. "Kevin, they like you. You need to just be comfortable."_

"_In tights, I'll feel even less comfortable," he grumbled._

"_They're hosen," she argued, trying not to lose her patience with him. She was ready to tell him just to stay home—he'd been complaining for an hour—but she didn't want to show up stag. Hotch, Rossi, and JJ were all bringing dates. "I'll be there. You'll be fine; we'll have fun."_

"_You'll have fun... As will Dr. Reid, Agent Prentiss, Agent _Morgan_..."_

"Not_ Morgan," she said. She had been feeling __down all day__, knowing that Morgan wasn't going. It wasn't a party without Derek. She could usually talk him into anything. What was it with her lately?_

"_Really?" Kevin inquired, sounding quite a bit more pleased than before. "Then there's really no reason for me to go."_

_She frowned; she thought he'd be pleased that Derek wasn't going. The two of them did not get along. "What is that supposed to mean?"_

"_I don't have to watch you to keep the wolf at bay," he answered simply._

_Her frown turned into a scowl. "I've told you a million times: you don't need to protect me from Derek. He's just my best friend."_

"_Someone never gave him that memo," he muttered quietly, but loudly enough that she would hear._

"_That is crazy, Kevin. We're friends." She batted her eyes at __him and__ teased, "Besides, there are other men there that you many need to protect me from..."_

"_Don't be silly." He patted her arm. "I'm not worried about any other man wanting you, honey. You'll be fine."_

Penelope knew he hadn't intended to insult the hell out of her, but he'd done it anyway. She'd called him on it, that he'd been insulting when he'd said no other man would want her. He'd been upset, saying he hadn't meant it that way...

"_Anyhoo, you know I think you look nice," he said, obviously pleased with himself, thinking that made everything better._

"_Nice?"_

"_Yes," he said, turning on the TV. "Very nice."_

Penelope's stomach had been churning, more irritated than she'd ever been with him before They'd been tepid for a long time, and this had been the final straw. She'd asked him to leave, and the saddest thing to her was that he hadn't a clue why she'd done that.

If a man that was supposed to love her had time to come up with a compliment, and all he could manage was _nice_...well, she felt she deserved better than _nice_. She felt she deserved better than a lukewarm romance.

Now, she looked at herself in the mirror, the thought of looking sexy was now muddled with worry that she was fooling herself. Perhaps she wasn't as fantastic as she'd thought she was.

"PG, you look fabulous," Emily said, coming into the shoppe. Not Emily...rather, the dreaded pirate Salty Sally. She looked adorable in her white pirate shirt cut to indecent proportions, black hosen, and red scarf around her head.

"She does, doesn't she?" JJ, the Renaissance princess, replied happily. She was wearing a long, cream colored gown with a hoop skirt and gold filigree stitching, and a type of corset that made her breasts look quite incredible.

Penelope smoothed down her skirt, and then picked up the leather mug she'd purchased. "Thanks."

"Don't let Kevin's comments get you down," JJ said, stepping closer and patting her arm. "You deserve better than that, Garcie."

"You're better without him," Emily commented, frowning. "I know you miss him, though...the idiot."

Garcia didn't comment on that. She actually was fine with Kevin not going—she really wouldn't miss him. She _was _missing Derek; he would've complimented her and made her feel better—even if it was just a tease.

Shrugging that feeling off, she put down her charge card—fittingly, his lordship, _Master_Card—and they all walked out of the shoppe together, to greet Will and Henry.

Will was JJ's perfect match. He was wearing a Renaissance Prince costume, complete with tights and funny shoes that curled on the end and looked kind of uncomfortable. That proved to any woman around that Will would do just about anything for JJ; he was truly devoted. Henry was asleep in the wagon. The toddler was dressed in a dragon costume, including a long green tail, and his wagon was decorated like a ship.

"Oh! You three look adorable," Penelope said when JJ stood next to Will. She reached for her camera and took a picture.

"Why, thank you, m'lady," Will replied with the cutest English accent tinged with his naturally deep Southern charm. His eyes flickered to Penelope's chest—her breasts were very pronounced—and immediately, his cheeks blushed. "You..umm...you look mighty fine, too, I have to say."

JJ slapped his arm. "She's got more to start with than me, Will. Quit staring, or you're going in the stocks."

"JJ, I don't want more." Will chucked and pulled JJ into his arms. "_Cher_, you know you're perfection to me..."

Watching the intimate scene between JJ and Will, Penelope felt like an intruder. She also felt a tinge of envy. She loved JJ, and did not want Will in any way, shape, or form, but she did wish she had someone that would do anything for her...like one that would tell her she was beautiful and come to a stupid Renaissance faire and wear a stupid costume.

She turned to get Emily, too, but she was nowhere to be seen. She knew where Prentiss was going, so that was fine with her. Earlier that week, Emily had said she was going to surprise Reid. She had a plan that was going to help him win the tournament. She'd been very excited, describing her plan. _A little _too_ excited_, Garcia thought with a grin. That spoke to deeper feelings.

JJ and Will were still locked in an embrace, so Penelope said, "I'm going to find Emily, and then I'll meet you guys at the chess board later."

"Oh," JJ said, turning away with a blush and a smile. "We can go, too..."

"No, no," Penelope replied, holding her hands up to keep them there. Quiet moments for JJ and Will together were hard pressed, and she didn't want to break that up. "Take your time."

JJ smiled back. "Thanks, Garcie."

Penelope turned and headed out of the shoppe. The faire was bustling with activity, jugglers and sword fighters, shoppes with food and artisan crafts. The air was fresh and filled with the coolness of fall, and the newly fallen leaves rustled under her feet.

At first, she looked for her friend, the pirate queen, at the chess board, but there had been no sign of her anywhere. Since her mood was still down, she decided to shop a bit instead. Shopping always made her mood feel better.

The first shoppe had been filled with pottery. There were some gorgeous bowls and vases she had purchased for her brothers in California. The small shoppe even shipped—a very nice thing, and quite advanced for the 1400's. The second shoppe had metal sculptures made from copper for lawns. She'd found one she'd put on hold for Hotch. By the third shoppe, she realized she needed to stop shopping, or she was going to go completely broke.

And she still didn't feel any better.

Penelope got a glass of wine from a vendor, and then found a hay bale to take a seat on. Her chest started feeling tight, and it had nothing to do with her corset.

"Prithee, dear lady," a very handsome man said, sweeping to a bow in front of her. "Is this hay bale taken?"

She smiled at the dark haired man with the twinkling eyes in front of her. "No. It is not. Feel free to sit."

"You are most generous," the man said with a returning smile, "and most beautiful."

"Thank you," she said. She could kiss this gorgeous stranger for saying exactly what she needed to hear.

"Since it is not wise for you to be sitting with strange gentlemen, I must introduce myself." He reached for her hand, bent over it, and then gave it the barest of kisses. "I am Robert of Rainault, the Sheriff of Nottingham."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

_AN: Thanks again for the reviews...This is fluffy with a little bit of angst and a lot of fun...I hope you enjoy..._

Spencer Reid was nefariously plotting, wickedly and viciously planning his next move...on the chess board, of course. He'd set up some of the most difficult scenarios for his brain to tackle into submission, so that he could beat Bob, aka the dreaded _Sheriff of Nottingham_. As a fellow chess champion, Reid had known Bob for years. He was a good guy, and he was working for a good cause, too, but he tended to be quite arrogant. He had good reason; he'd taken the title at this event for years.

Not this year. It was Reid's turn to shine.

He hummed the tune _I __Shot__ the __Sheriff__,_ while he got himself out of a rather hideous situation of four pawns versus a minor. He was doing great—nothing would stop him from beating Bob this time...

But his own nerves.

Reid, as a whole, tended to over think. So much so, he made stupid mistakes he normally never would. He was a far better player, even though Bob was good, but he'd never beaten the other man here. Something about this tournament—the audience and the actors—made him incredibly nervous and almost jumpy. Chess was usually a quiet event that took methodical thinking, not a rollicking game for showmanship. Even now, he knew Bob would be shouting, and—

"Dang!" he cursed, as he knocked over his chessboard from the hay bale he'd had it balanced on. Yet another sign of nerves.

He started wondering if he should do some sort of stress relief thing, maybe some stretching or something. The match was in two hours, and he'd been doing nothing but chess. Gideon had always told him not to put all his thoughts into one thing, all of his proverbial eggs in one basket.

"Diversify. Think outside the box. Then nothing will be an unpleasant surprise," he'd said more than once.

Reid's stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten in the past six hours. He started contemplating food. Perhaps he should go get a turkey leg? The protein would help with thoughts, and the tryptophan in the turkey would help calm—

He felt the cold blade of a rather blunt knife against the back of his neck, distracting him from all thoughts of food.

"Yarrr! This is Salty Sally, the pirate, ye landlubber! Yer my prisoner now!"

The voice of _Salty Sally_ was the entirely recognizable Emily Prentiss, so there was absolutely no real fear in him whatsoever. He was pleased that she had come to the tournament. Since she had returned to the BAU, they'd become closer. He'd grown quite...fond of Prentiss.

He grinned, but tried to keep the amusement out of his voice, as he moved back to his hay bale seat. "Ah...Sally? I was just about to get a turkey leg, and then—"

"That be _Salty_ Sally t' you!" She pressed the blade closer to his throat. "No more _smart talk_ from ye, laddie, if ye know what's good for ye!"

Reid chuckled. He couldn't help it. Her pirate accent was atrocious; it kept slipping every few seconds. She was worse than Kevin Costner doing an English accent, and nothing was much worse than that!

"Quiet, scurrrrrrvy dog!" she growled.

Her offended sound made Reid laugh even harder. So hard, he had tears rolling down his face.

"You have no respect for a pirate queen, eh?" Emily asked fiercely.

Reid was about to answer, _Normally, I have infinite respect for Emily Prentiss. However, in this case... _

But then she stepped in front of him...

* * *

><p>"Did you say you're the Sheriff of Nottingham?" Penelope asked.<p>

"Yes, milady." He grinned at her, a wolfish grin that could rival Red Riding Hood's canine friend, and said, "Since you are with law enforcement, you need not worry. I'll protect you."

She giggled. That sounded like some cheesy pick up line Derek would use on one of his bimbos he picked up on any given Saturday. "Thank you, kindly, milord. However, I do feel that I should warn you."

"How's that?"

Shaking her head sadly, she said, "I am a long time and dear friend of Robin Hood."

"The criminal?"

She gave a regretful sigh. "No, the chess player."

The Sheriff laughed, and then said with a teasing wink, "T'is the same man; his chess playing is what is criminal!"

"I can't believe that," Penelope scoffed, defending her Boy Wonder. "He's a very good player."

"I'm better," he answered with such a swagger, it was humorous.

"Could be," she baited, "but Reid is the best I know."

The Sheriff waved his hand in dismissal. "Enough of that talk. You have never seen me play, no?"

She couldn't deny that. "Nope. I haven't."

"And therefore, you do not have a fair basis for which to judge our play?" He arched a brow at her, similarly to a certain chocolate dreamboat she knew.

"I guess not..."

He looked overjoyed at winning that point of contention. "Well, then, fair maiden. I can forgive the egregious error—your support for the wrong team—if you tell me one thing?"

"What is that?" she asked, genuinely curious.

"If you promise me that he does not own your heart?"

Robert, the Sheriff, had such a hopeful look on his very handsome face, she felt very pleased. "No, he does not."

He smiled, and then stood and extended his hand to her. "Milady, may I escort you for some refreshments?"

She grinned back. "Yes, you may...but I still won't be cheering for you this afternoon."

"T'is a pity," he answered, and then smiled suggestively, "but perhaps I may earn other rewards?"

Penelope blushed and accepted the proffered arm, as the afternoon suddenly looked much sunnier.

* * *

><p>Man, it was a long drive out to the Renaissance Faire. They threw those things out in the middle of a cornfield in Timbuktu. Derek had unfortunately had two house renovation appointments he'd had to keep; otherwise, he'd have gone to cheer on Reid. He wouldn't have worn tights—hell, no—but he would've gone. He was a team player, and he loved to be around Garcia—even if he had to tolerate Lynch. She was his best friend, his other half, his partner in crime.<p>

Then he'd received a call from Prentiss—his partner _out_ of crime—that morning. According to a rather jubulent Prentiss, who always had his back, there'd been a fight, and it seemed to be the end of Garcia and Lynch. Not only that, but Penelope was feeling down because she had to be alone. He couldn't have that; not when he could sweep in and save the day.

He'd rushed through both appointments, even hammered his right index finger in his haste, and then hit the road on his motorcycle. Pulling into the lot, he removed his helmet, feeling extremely grateful for its plastic bug protector mask. He was filthy dusty and tried to brush himself off, but it didn't help. He moseyed up to the gait—an hour on a motorcycle made anyone mosey—and purchased a ticket.

Moments later, he found JJ, Will, and Henry, and greeted them with, "Hey, guys."

"Hey, Morgan," JJ said with a smile, before she glanced back to Henry.

Derek noticed the costumes. No self respecting male wore tights like that; he could imagine the mental whip cracking JJ must've done to get Will to wear that get up. He gave the other man a crooked grin. "Uh...nice costume."

Will, another alpha male in law enforcement, shot him a look that simply said, _Shut the hell up_.

Morgan bit back his chuckle. "Did you see Penelope?"

"I think she went after Prentiss, and I know Prentiss was looking for Reid," JJ answered, as she started repacking her diaper bag.

"By the chess board?" Morgan asked.

JJ looked up at him with a smile. "Yes, I think—oh, no. Will! He's after the glassware at that shoppe. Hurry!"

Derek chucked, and then left in search of the giant chess board. When he reached that area, all he saw was a rather lovely redheaded woman, who was pouting and seething at the chess registration table.

She glanced up at Derek. "Hello. Can I help you?" Her tone was so dull, it was almost comical.

"I'm looking for Spencer Reid," he said, and then backtracked. "I mean, Robin Hood."

"Oh," she said, narrowing her eyes at him. "You're another one of _those_."

The malice in her voice took him aback. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Those _Team Sherwood_ people."

"What's wrong with us?" he asked, and then put on his most charming grin. After all, he'd learned to get more flies with honey. "We don't bite unless you ask us to."

She gave him a skeptical look, and then tossed her head. "Ha! _Another_ one!"

Fine, he'd be curt if he had to. "Look, Miss—"

"One buxom woman comes here, flaunts her _wares_, and steals away the only interesting man here," she snipped. "A tavern wench, at that!"

Derek frowned. There was only one really _buxom woman _on their team...

"Which woman?"

"Her," the cranky lady said, pointing over his shoulder. "That one."

Derek turned...and nearly fell over.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

_AN: Thanks for the reviews, you beautiful reviewers, you!...I'm glad folks are getting a kick out of this..._

The first thing that popped into Reid's head the moment he saw Prentiss the Pirate, holding her rather silly toy dagger at his neck, was _Holy __shit_! Normally, Reid was far more articulate. He had a vocabulary that could easily challenge Webster's Dictionary, but he was struck positively stupid by how gorgeous the beautiful buccaneer looked.

And dangerous, too. She looked dangerous…to his self-control.

This didn't bother him so much. Any man would find himself reacting the same way, he logically concluded. Her shirt was a white, linen style material—puffy, like you'd expect a pirate's shirt to be. However, that was the last similarity to Blackbeard. Emily's shirt was open, showing a very tantalizing view of her breasts.

Normally, a shirt like that wouldn't do Reid in. Unlike a lot of other men, he wasn't a breast man. He liked them, of course, but unlike Morgan and Rossi, the mammary glands were not his favorite bodily feature on a woman.

Maybe because he'd sneaked in and watched showgirls in Vegas when he was younger, a rite of passage for Nevada boys—and sometimes Reid did strive for normalcy—he developed his tastes. Perhaps because those showgirls—tall and thin, with legs up to their armpits—had seen an enraptured little boy and had flirted with him like the teases they were, he grew up to have a fetish for his favorite body parts.

Yes, Reid liked legs…and oh,_ man_, did Prentiss have a nice pair of them!

She was wearing skin-tight hosen that showed off every luscious curve of calf and line of thigh. Those legs ended in tiny boots, perfect for a swashbuckling _femme fatale_, and Reid found himself lost.

"Ahhhh," she said, her teeth flashing white. "Not so talkative now, are ye?"

_Lord, please don't let her turn around,_ he thought desperately. If she showed him her certain-to-be-showgirl-worthy butt, he'd be ruined._ For all that is holy, please_…

She narrowed her eyes at him. "So, you will accept yer fate as me prisoner?"

"What fate would that be?" he asked.

"To have fun and relax and not think about chess for the next two hours before this match," she said, her dark eyes twinkling with mischief, and then she added for good measure, "Yarrr!"

Reid fought a grin. He and Prentiss had grown even closer since her return to the team, and he found himself being her confidant, as she was his. In fact, he'd spent yesterday evening on the phone with her, telling her about how he wanted to win this match and his tendency to over think everything to death...

"_You just need to relax and have fun," she said._

"_That won't work. I'm better off studying my moves to the twenty-fifth mersenne prime," he replied, feeling miserably sad. He didn't think he could practice any more._

"_How many is that?" she asked._

_When he replied, he knew he sounded completely bleak. "You don't want to know."_

"_Hmmm… Someone is just going to have to steal you away and make you have fun."_

After he didn't answer, she poked the little dagger farther against his throat.

"Ouch!" he said. That little thing was kind of sharp!

Her eyes widened, and the Emily Prentiss he knew and cared about came to the forefront again. "Did I hurt you? I didn't mean—"

If he'd had any reservations about following her—and he didn't—they would've been melted by the genuine concern written in her features.

"_Salty Sally_," he interrupted, meeting her gaze. He purposefully used her pirate name and knew she would take that as his compliance. "I will meet your terms on one condition: I return in time for my match."

"Conditions!" she gasped. "Bah! Salty Sally doesn't listen to conditions! Hold out yer hands, prisoner."

And then she turned around.

* * *

><p>Derek was furious. Standing in front of some besotted idiot in tights was his Baby Girl, with her God-given assets hanging out for all the world to see. She looked lush, ripe, perfect—like a peach ready to be plucked...and that asshole wanted to do the plucking. Was she insane? Some of the other women at this nerd-fest could get away with half a shirt and that magical corset, but not Penelope. He was going to march right on over there and yank her dress up.<p>

Then she could wear it for him—and him alone—the next time they watched a movie together.

"Hey! I'm talking to you!"

He turned to face that very irritated woman he'd been talking to earlier. He'd completely forgotten about her the moment he'd seen Penelope.

She was now standing, all five feet or so of her, glaring up at him. "Thanks for finally deeming me worth talking to again," she retorted, snipping at him. "I was right. She was one of yours."

_One of his?_ That was a stupid question, phrasing it in multiples...in his world, there was no one else _but _Penelope.

"Yeah," he grumbled back. "Is that yours?" He jerked a thumb in the asshole's direction.

She pouted back at him. "I wish." She sighed heavily, and then said, "Actually, he's kind of mine. Robert has been my best enemy for over four years."

"Best enemy?"

Her smile was wistful. "Yeah...we have a kind of cat and dog, antagonistic relationship, but we're always there for each other. This is something we've been doing together for years." She paused and sighed again. "That's why I'm Maid Marian...he's the Sheriff of Nottingham."

Derek grinned in spite of himself. "Not interested in Robin Hood, Marian?"

This time, she smiled, too. "What can I say? I am attracted to bad boys."

Feeling his grin leave, he said, "How _bad_ is this bad boy?"

Sighing dreamily, she stared over in the jerk's direction and answered, "The baddest."

Oh, hell. He needed to get P away from that man, pronto.

Suddenly, Derek was struck with an idea, and he had a feeling it just might work...if this pansy in the tights was anything like him.

"Hey, Marian," he said with a with a devilish grin, "wanna take a walk?"

* * *

><p>All in all, Penelope was having a pretty good time at the Renaissance faire now. Robert was a decent conversationalist, and he kept up the English accent remarkably well, which helped her forget her cares for awhile and imagine that she was actually far away and in a different time.<p>

He was also very handsome, and he was free flowing with the compliments, which helped matters greatly.

"Ah, milady," Robert said, patting Penelope's hand that was draped on his arm. "Might I interest you in some dessert? Perhaps some iced cream, or chocolate?"

Penelope felt her smile falter a bit at the mention of chocolate. Of course, all she could think about was her sculpted god of chocolate thunder, who wouldn't even bother donning a costume and coming out to—

"That sweetness doesn't need any more sugar," a familiar voice called out from behind her.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

_AN: What a lovely bunch of folks for reviewing, alerting, favoriting, and making my daying...Bless your beautiful hides...Poor Derek...on the show and here he has to plot..._

Emily was digging through the bag she'd carried into the chess preparation tent, looking for a pair of rather medieval looking cuffs to _capture_ Reid with. She had to fight pumping her fist in the air and shouting in triumph, because her plan was definitely working. This was turning out so well; there was no way in hell he was going to lose that match today.

"Shoot…I know they're here somewhere," she said, bent over at the waist, rummaging through to the bottom of the duffle sack she had.

She had been quite clever when she devised this plan yesterday evening. Deciding quickly to give up her Spanish princess costume she had planned to wear—she didn't want to wear a corset—she had begun searching for things for a pirate costume. Once she'd come up with this outfit, she'd started on _Operation Reid_.

Something about Reid touched her heart in ways she didn't know were possible. He always had, and he always would. She'd felt so terrible after talking to him on the phone, his defeated tone resonating with her long after she'd hung up the phone. With his intelligence, he should've been a shoe-in to win this tournament. She'd been in that position many times in her life...to be the best candidate for something and end up sidelined by your own nerves was a miserable situation.

She had to help him; it was imperative. Now if she could just find those…

"Aha!" she exclaimed, grabbing the leather cuffs. "Found them!" She turned quickly with a flourish, dangling them on her finger by the fashioned leather chain between them.

Reid was sitting there, looking rather pained, like something was bothering him.

Immediately, she frowned. "What's wrong with—are you _sweating_?"

She'd never seen Reid sweat before…but then he turned a shade of scarlet that would rival a tomato. What—

It didn't take her even a second to figure it out.

"Oh, ho, captive!" she teased, fluttering her lashes in an exaggerated manner. "Seem you were _eying the booty_ of Salty Sally!"

The blush continued to stain his cheeks and spread all the way to his ears. "You…ah…do fill out hosen quite well."

The honest and sweet compliment pleased her more than if he'd said something more ribald. It was befitting of him not to be too coarse or vulgar. She felt warmed inside…but she knew the compliment was only part of the reason she was feeling warmth!

Like any good woman that knew her attraction, she swayed her hips seductively and trailed her dagger across his throat. "Seems to me I captured ye…and I didn't even need to use me sword…" She raised her foot and planted it on the hay bale next to him, stretching the thin material of the hosen even more over her leg.

She noticed he couldn't take his eyes off her raised leg, which was very flattering, too. "Ah…so ye are a leg man, are ye?"

"Emily," he pleaded, hoarsely but softly.

"That's Salty Sally to ye, scurrrrvy dog!" she ordered, completely lost in her persona and the thrill of being a lusty pirate wench. With even more devilish intent, she straddled his lap, holding her dagger to his throat again.

"Oh, God," Reid groaned.

* * *

><p>"Derek!" Penelope exclaimed excitedly, launching herself into his arms and giving him a big hug. "I thought you weren't coming."<p>

She was so pleased that he was there. She had been disappointed with Kevin, but even more disappointed that Derek hadn't wanted to come. It didn't make sense to her. No matter what they did together, they always had fun. They could grocery shop, do laundry, wait in line for tickets to a concert, and still, they'd make a party of it. The fact that he hadn't wanted to go had stung; even though it was irrational, she'd taken it as a rejection of herself.

Now that she was wrapped in his arms with the heat of his sun-warmed skin and clothes pressed against her body—that simply made everything better and mostly forgotten.

He gave her a squeeze, and then released her partially, keeping one hand on the curve of her waist. "I finished early, so I thought I'd come, and check things out."

She smiled at him. "Do you like my dress?"

Her breath caught in her throat, and she felt a blush heating her cheeks. Other men had looked at her today—one drunken shopkeeper had practically buried his face in her cleavage—but Derek did it in such a thorough fashion, she felt positively naked.

"Hell, yes," he murmured, giving her a slow smile that increased her pleasurable blush.

"Thank you."

He winked at her. "You're welcome."

It amazed Penelope how right the world felt, standing with her best friend, the warmth of the sun paling against the warmth she felt in her soul. It was like everything should be—was meant to be.

"Did you see Reid yet?" she asked with a grin, ready to explore this faire with him.

"Reid? Is he Robin Hood?" a miniscule slip of woman standing a little behind Derek asked. She put her hand on Derek's other arm.

Penelope blanched. She hadn't noticed her until she spoke, but looking at her, she could see the other woman was stunning. She had waist length, flaming red hair, like some Renaissance version of Crystal Gayle, and she was pixy tiny, but perfectly formed.

Derek took a step back to stand closer to the woman and answered, "Yeah, Reid's Robin Hood. P, this is Maid Marian. Marian, this is Penelope. We all work together."

Penelope's gut clenched. God, what had she been thinking? She'd learned years ago that Derek was only teasing; it was best that she never forget it. After all, he was there to _check things out_. That certainly included checking other _women_ out.

Penelope pasted a smile on her face and looked at the young and lovely woman. "This is the Sheriff of Nottingham," she said, taking a step closer to Robert.

The woman suddenly had a frosty grin of her own. "Hello, Robert."

"Marian, my dulcet darling," the Sheriff said in greeting, before reaching for Penelope's hand and placing it on his arm protectively again. He gave an arch look at Derek, and then turned all of his focus back to the redhead. "I see you have found a ruffian to keep time with?" The way Robert had rolled the _r_ on the word ruffian had turned the word into a grave sounding insult.

"Ruffian?" Derek asked, looking none too pleased with Robert at the moment.

Penelope thought he might sock him, which would be a terrible thing, since she had liked Robert.

However, she wasn't an idiot, either; Robert was partially taken. There was obviously something going on between Marian and Robert. The looks the two were throwing back and forth were electric and heated.

"Unlike the beautiful lady I am with, t'is obvious _he_ is coarse and below your standards," Robert commented archly.

Penelope giggled at the affronted look on Derek's face, and he shot her a look. Good. Served him right!

"_Lady_?" Marian shrieked. "She's a wench!"

"Hey!" Penelope snapped, and saw Derek's answering grin that must've matched hers a moment ago…

"There is nothing _coarse_ about him, I can assure you that!" Marian snapped. "He's been a proper gentleman."

"More's the pity. I know there's a time and place for everything..." Robert lifted Penelope's hand to his mouth, kissed it, and then winked at her.

Derek glared at Robert with such vehemence, Penelope could feel the fire behind it. "Listen, you tights wearing jackass, I—"

"And _she_ has some prize walking with _you_?" Marian interrupted, glaring daggers at Robert. Her hands were on her hips, and her cheeks were as red as her hair.

"But of course I am!" Robert replied, as if the answer to that was obvious. "Whereas he..." He clucked his tongue. "_Look_ at him. The man is filthy dirty, and his clothes aren't fashionable. He doesn't even have proper hosen!"

"That's it," Derek snarled, taking a step forward, causing Robert's eyes to widen. "You're going down."

A certain brawl was going to happen, if fate hadn't intervened…

"Flowers for miladies?" a young man asked, holding up the big basket of roses he was carrying and stepping between the two men. "Only a dollar."

"Certainly!" Robert exclaimed quickly. He reached into his pouch on his waist and retrieved a dollar, and then picked a lovely red rose, before bending at the waist and presenting it with a flourish to Penelope. "For you, my love: but a small token of my growing affection."

"Thank you," Penelope said, but she couldn't help but glance over at Derek.

Derek wasn't even looking at her. He was still glaring at Robert, and she could see him plotting his revenge. "Hey, kid," he said, handing the flower boy two dollars and picking two peach roses. "They're nowhere near as lovely as you, Marian."

Penelope felt her gut sink. This wasn't going to be good…


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

_AN: Thanks again for the reviews, alerts, and favorites, lovely people!...As for the story, this is a case of not being able to see the forest for the trees..._

"Prentiss, you need to step back if you plan on taking me anywhere," Reid ground out through clenched teeth. He was becoming quite irritated—at himself _and_ Emily.

She was right; he was sweating. It was a logical reaction for a man in physical pain, and despite what some people may believe, Reid was all man.

No, he didn't tear off his shirt and beat his chest. That was fine for some men, and he respected them for it, but Reid believed in fighting with his wits. He wasn't a beer drinking, football watching jock like most of the men he'd attended high school and college with. He preferred more cerebral pursuits, like chess and logic puzzles. Not that he didn't enjoy physical pursuits—he was thinking of one in particular he'd _really_ enjoy at the moment—but he was far more well-rounded than that.

However, one look between his legs at the moment, and there'd be no doubt of his manhood. Not that he needed that; he didn't need to prove anything to anyone. He wasn't a virgin, and he knew his way around a bedroom.

Yes, he was quite upset. Downright angry that he'd let his baser side take control of his common sense. He was usually more in control of his lower functioning feelings and physical being than that, and he was mad as hell at himself.

However, he was even angrier at Emily.

Prentiss wiggled her cute, little, heart-shaped backside and teased, "Oh, ho, matey! Yer givin' commands again—"

"Emily, enough!" he snapped, interrupting her. Roughly, he gripped her hips and quickly lifted her, moving her straight backward a foot or two away from him.

Judging from her gasp and the surprised expression on her face, that had shocked her. "Reid?"

"Cut it out, Prentiss!" He'd had it; he was embarrassingly uncomfortable and beyond irritated. He was ready to lay into her for this. "You know, it's bad enough that you recognize I have had crush on you, but to use it to your advantage and tease beyond distraction is below you. I expected better from you."

She blinked at him. "You have a crush on me?"

* * *

><p>Penelope's arms were getting tired. Since Robert and Derek intended on winning everything from every stand in some sort of medieval pissing match, trying to one up one another, she and Marian ended up looking like well-dressed pack mules.<p>

"Ah ha!" Robert exclaimed, pointing at a strong man challenge nearby. He took Penelope's arm and dragged her to the station, with Derek and Marian in hot pursuit.

"Win a feather for your lady?" the burly man running the booth asked.

Penelope did not want anything more. Not even a feather added to the top of her heaping load. She hurried closer to Robert's side. "Really, Robert, I—"

"Most certainly," Robert answered, not even bothering to listen to her. He picked up the large hammer and headed toward the apparatus. "Anything for my dove."

"_Soiled _dove," Marian grumbled under her breath, standing near Penelope so that only she could hear.

"Shut up, you twerp!" she snapped. She'd had it with the bitchy, ginger-haired girl and her veiled insults.

Marian gasped, sounding affronted. "Milord Derek, did you hear that foulness?"

To Penelope's delight, Derek wasn't paying any attention to Marian, either. He was too busy sizing up the game, seeing how he could beat his rival in this idiotic competition.

Penelope glanced at this game. It looked like a giant thermometer with a bell attached at the top, and a platform with a ball attached at the bottom. Apparently, they had to strike the platform to make the ball rise and ring the bell. There were graduations on the upright structure, starting with _plague __flea_, followed by _titmouse_, _scullery__maid_, _whelp_, _king_, and finally, the top, the bell, being _black knight_.

Robert stared at Derek. "Ruffian," he called out, rolling the r even more exaggerated than before, "are you doing this one?"

Derek grinned nastily back at him. "I'm right behind you, _titmouse_."

Robert raised the hammer above his head, stretching his hosen over his fine fanny, and lowered the blow. He got all the way to king on his first try. He glared over at Marian, who had laughed at him. His second try, he struck the bell. The burly barker handed Robert the feather. Immediately, he turned to gloat at Marian, who pretended to examine her nails.

That wasn't anything new…Penelope noticed every time Robert won something, he looked at Marian…but then handed Penelope the prize.

"Where does this go?" she asked.

"Most women wear it in their cleavage," the barker remarked. As she tucked the feather in between her ample mounds, the rapt Carney added under his breath, "Lucky feather."

"I'll win you one, Marian," Derek, the idiotic hero, said, irritating Penelope even more.

"Where should mine go?" Marian asked.

The barker tore his eyes away from Penelope, and then glanced at the rather flat-chested Marian. He said dispassionately, "Cleavage or hair...you pick."

Penelope'd had it. She was sick of watching her Derek trying to win the affections of someone he barely knew, tired of being Robert's bait to make Marian jealous, and she was exhausted from being dragged from event to event in a huge, hot dress with nowhere near enough air circulation. Not only that, she was carrying a little leather sack, a dagger, a teddy bear—did they even have teddy bears in the 1400s?—five roses, a ridiculous t-shirt she would never wear that said _Once a Knight is Never Enough_, and now a prickly feather between her boobs.

"I'm sitting," she announced to no one in particular, finding a nearby hay bale.

To her surprise, Marian joined her. She took a seat next to Penelope and pouted like usual. "They're crazy, aren't they?"

"Yes," Penelope grumbled, ripping the feather out from between her breasts.

"Oh, don't take it out!" Marian said. "It looks lovely." Penelope gave her a suspicious eye, which caused Marian to laugh. "No, I'm being serious."

"Thank you."

She sighed wistfully. "I wish I had a décolletage like yours…perhaps Robert would notice me then."

Penelope gave her an incredulous look. "_Notice you_? All he does is notice you."

Marian scoffed. "He does not…he hates me. That's not noticing."

"He's trying to get your attention."

"Like Derek is trying to get yours?" she asked, raising a brow.

This time, Penelope scoffed. "No, that's just D's competitive nature."

"Methinks you're blind to your own situation," Marian replied.

Any retort she could've made was cut off by Derek and Robert returning, both looking smug and carrying two more handfuls of feathers each.

"Here, Marian," Derek said, handing the woman the pile of feathers.

Marian tucked the feathers in the long braids she had running down the sides of her face. "How do they look?"

"Great," Derek answered honestly.

"No...not just great." Robert's eyes warmed as he smiled at Marian, a true smile of genuine affection. "They are lovely, but they do not surpass your beauty, milady."

Marian's eyes widened, and a peachy blush that blended beautifully with her red hair warmed her cheeks. "Why…thank you, Sir Robert."

After that, the two simply stared at each other, as if no one else in the world existed.

"Well, finally," Derek said, leaning back on his heels, breaking the peaceful moment. "My work is done."

"What work?" Robert remarked, glaring at Derek. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Helping you get with Marian so I can be with my Baby Girl."

Penelope's heart pounded in her chest, and she didn't know whether to be angry that he hadn't involved her in the plan, or pleased that he wanted to be with her.

"Why would you do that?" Marian asked.

Derek grinned. "It's obvious with all that cat and dog fighting, you two liked each other."

"It's true, Maid Marian," Robert said, holding her hand. "Hate is akin to love."

"Oh, Robert!" she said, dropping all her trinkets that had been won for her and tossing herself into his arms.

Derek sat next to Penelope and wrapped his arm around her. "A good deed done, right, baby?"

"I'll say," she said, watching Robert and Marian lose themselves in a kiss. "That was a very nice thing you did for them."

Morgan was still watching the couple, as if he couldn't take his eyes off them, either. "Yeah," he said, distractedly. "Now we can have some fun, too."

Did he mean fun as a couple? She could feel her heart swelling as she realized how much she wanted that. "Fun?"

He gave her a crooked smile. "At the fair."

Penelope felt her gut churning. Try as she might, she couldn't hold back the envy she felt at watching the happy couple. After spending the day feeling jealous and lonely that she wasn't on Derek's arm, she'd realized, too, how badly she wished he felt the same for her. Somehow, over this magical faire that was so like her dreams, she had hoped he'd be her knight and steal her away to his castle to live happily ever after.

That was as likely as a pink dragon hatching from a chicken's egg...and his last words only confirmed her worst thoughts.

"I'm happy for them," she said, more for her benefit than his. She needed to not think such melancholy thoughts.

Derek was watching her with a concerned, somewhat sad look on his face. "You okay, momma? You're frowning."

"I'm fine."

He looked back at the couple. "You feeling bad that you lost Robert? Sorry about that."

"That's okay," she murmured. "They do belong together."

"Yeah...but he almost lost her."

"How do you know?" she queried.

Derek gave her a thoughtful look, and then turned and shrugged. "He was an idiot, a blind damned fool...He should've opened his eyes and seen what was right before him a long time before today."

Penelope felt the blood drain from her face as she listened to him. The situation echoed what she felt in her heart so badly, and yet she was no where near as lucky as Marian. Hearing the words outloud made her very angry, too; she couldn't bear it.

Blind fool? _He_ was a blind damned fool!

Not caring what he thought anymore, she stood, and then shoved him as hard as she could, so that he landed backward off the hay bale with his legs flying in the air. Tears clouded her eyes as she ran off in no particular direction at all...just far away from him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

_AN: Thanks so much for the reviews and sorry about the delay..._

Emily looked as if she could've been knocked over by a feather. She stared at him like he'd spoken some foreign language she hadn't mastered, like Tamil or Urdu, and couldn't compute what he'd said.

He realized then he'd been wrong. He wasn't used to being wrong; being a genius leaned a person to being correct a great majority of the time. Flustered, he began, "Uh...umm...Emily, I think I was wrong—"

"Wait a minute there," she interrupted, obviously over her shock. She was staring at him now, her hands on her delicately curved hips—Lord, she had a bottom half that was killing him! She waited for him to bring his eyes back to her face, before she said, "_You_ have a crush on _me_?"

He frowned slightly. What was so odd about that? Hadn't the woman looked in the mirror for the past five years? "Yes."

He watched as she slowly smiled. "That's almost funny."

The frown he was wearing intensified to a glower. "I'm glad you think so!"

"It's funny, genius," she said, not backing down at all, "because I have had a crush on you forever."

That surprised him. He blinked a few times, and then began to smile himself. "Really?"

Rolling her eyes, she sheathed her dagger, and then took a seat next to him on a hay bale. "Yes. Reid, haven't you guessed you're exactly my type?"

He chuckled, and then the chuckle turned into a laugh. "No...haha...if...haha...how was I supposed to know that?"

She was still smiling, too—a radiant, beautiful smile that lit up her face, like someone had just given her a million dollars and a pony. "Reid, I can't believe I have to say this word to you, but think."

He knew he was still looking blankly at her.

Prentiss rolled her eyes. "Darren, in accounting?"

Reid remembered Darren had been one of her first boyfriends during her tenure with the BAU. He'd been brainy, funny, and Reid had actually liked him. "Okay..."

"Andy Cartwright."

Andy had been a brainy, thinner, friendly guy from Internal Affairs. Another one of the men she'd dated. Reid liked him, too. A chess master, too. He kind of reminded Reid of himself, and...

"Oh," Reid said, as he mentally tallied all of Prentiss's recent beaus and came up with the right conclusion.

It seemed he _wasn't_ such a genius after all.

"Yeah, _oh_," she said, nudging him rather hard with her elbow. As he rubbed the spot, she said softly, "Why didn't you tell me you liked me?"

"I thought you knew," he answered honestly. He hadn't been hiding his feelings for Emily from anyone. He didn't have a good poker face for those kinds of things.

"Well, if I did, I would've acted on it," she answered.

"Really?"

She reached for his hand and squeezed it. "Really."

For a moment, they sat there, not saying anything. Reid could feel the warmth from her clasped hand, and his heart beat even faster in his chest.

"Emily?"

"Hmm?"

He grinned at her again. "Am I still your prisoner to command?"

"Yarr, laddie!" she guttered, jumping to her feet again and pointing her dagger at him. "Me thinks I need to cuff ye to keep ye in line."

Reid groaned. "Emily...if you want to be the only one _brandishing a sword_, please do not talk about cuffing me while wearing those tights..."

"They're hosen!" she added automatically, and then as she digested his meaning, she did something he'd never seen Prentiss do before: she blushed. "You have a dirty mind, Spencer Reid."

It was about time he acted on this relationship, too. He stood, pushing her little toy sword out of the way, and reached for her, tugging her into his arms. "A brilliantly dirty mind."

"How dirty?" she asked, giving him a suggestive grin of encouragement...that he truly did not need.

"Positively filthy," he murmured, lowering his head toward hers.

* * *

><p>Once he got over the shock of what had just happened, the wind back in his lungs, and the dust and hay out of his nose and mouth, Derek quickly began to rise to his feet. "Penelope!" he called out, but she was completely out of sight, swallowed by the crowds of faire-going revelers.<p>

"Oh, that was brilliantly played," Robert said, giving a mocking glare to Derek. He began to clap, slowly. "Bra-vo."

That did it. He already felt like a fool; he didn't need this smug bastard rubbing it in. He began to push up his dusty sleeves. "You sonofa—"

"Why don't you take your anger and put it into something more constructive?" Marian interrupted. "Like winning back the girl?"

Derek growled to himself and sat back on the hay bale. "Like that is going to happen."

"Not dressed like that, it isn't," Robert agreed, and at that moment, Derek couldn't have agreed more. He looked filthy, he felt like crap, and he realized he'd been a fool for a very long time. There was no real positives at the moment.

Marian sat next to him...a safe distance away so she wouldn't be sullied by his clothes. "Derek, you do care for the girl, correct?"

"I love her," he answered honestly. "She's everything to me—my best friend in the world."

Robert barked a short laugh. "Some friendship!"

Derek stood and glared at him."Hey, I didn't see you getting the girl until today, either, you pansy assed—"

"Gentlemen!" Marian snapped, tugging Derek to sit again. "What were you doing today? I thank you for offering to help me get Robert, but there had to be another reason you asked to help...or even offered to be here. I mean—" she gestured around her at the costumed people "—this doesn't exactly seem to be your style of thing!"

Derek chuckled sadly, knowing he was far more transparent than he wanted to be. "It isn't. I heard that she was alone and on the outs with her boyfriend. I'd hoped to win her over today, but she didn't seem interested in me. She already had someone, and I was too late...like always." Derek sighed heavily, recounting the horrible day in his head. "So I ended up doing what I always do. I played the part of the best friend and tried to get at least part of her attention."

"Why didn't you tell her when I went over to Robert?" Marian asked.

"She looked sad, like she was disappointed that Robert had left," he replied, feeling his heart aching in her chest. He rubbed his hands over his eyes in frustration. "I just don't get it. Why doesn't she see it in me? I thought showing her that I could do the same things for her that pompous ass was doing would work. Hell, I even tried to make her jealous."

Marian scoffed. "That worked. She was watching you like a hawk, while you were watching her."

"I realize that now," he said.

"Then go get her, man!" Robert said.

Derek shook his head. "I made it worse."

"How?" Marian asked.

"I was so frustrated and angry at myself when she was still pining after Robert, I was mocking myself," he began. "I told her Robert was a fool for not seeing what was in front of him until it was too late..."

"Oh, that _is _stupid," Marian said, shaking her head. "You _are_ doomed."

"No, he's not," Robert said. "For heaven's sake, he just said the girl wants him, too. He just needs to win her back."

"How?"

"You, my friend, need to impart a grand gesture," Robert said, taking a seat on the other hay bale. "One that will make her sit up and take notice and forget your stupidity."

Derek frowned. "What is that?"

Robert smiled and clapped Derek's dusty shoulder. "That is for you to figure out."


	8. Chapter 8

_AN: Thanks so much for the reviews, guys! We're cookin' with gas now...Speaking of cooking, starting today, my work is officially closed, and I am on vacation for the next four weeks until I start my new job (Wish me luck!)—the fanfic kitchen for me is open! LOL..._

**Chapter 8**

When Reid's lips touched hers, it was exactly what Emily had thought it would be: soft, sweet, and gentle. Exactly like his temperament was most of the time and how he treated her—that was how he kissed her. It wasn't exactly thrilling, but she could work on that. After all, he was younger than her, and she—

At that moment, something must've shifted, because he drew her even closer and completely blew her mind.

Gone was sweet and gentle, to be replaced with hot, heavy, and deliciously wet kisses. He gripped his hands on her bottom, growled and lifted, aligning their bodies and molding her against him. He angled his head the perfect way, deepening the kiss until she had no recourse but to open completely and let him plunder.

She clung to him, her hands gripping his biceps tightly, kind of in shock, because she _really_ hadn't expected this. Whoa, this boy could kiss! She even felt her knees grow weak and jellylike, and Prentiss was not the kind of person who showed weakness—even in passion.

When he raised his head again, she opened her eyes and looked into his smiling countenance. There was an expectant look on his face, along with just a touch of smugness that on any other man would've been irritating.

Slowly, she removed herself from his arms and centered herself back on her feet. She straightened her crooked shirt, and then wiped her thumb along her kiss-bruised bottom lip. "You've been holding out on us, Reid, haven't you?"

He shrugged. "I've never felt the need to counter those innocent claims foisted on me," he remarked, and then gave her a little predatory grin that made her toes curl. "Until now, of course."

She nodded quickly. "Oh, of course."

"So, _Salty Sally_," he said with a smile. "Where to now?"

She winked at him, ready to play again. "Yarrr, matey! Ye be nothin' but skin and bones! T'the turkey leg stand with ye!"

Reid nodded, took her hand, and yelled, "Yarrr!"

* * *

><p>Hours later, Penelope stood between Hotch and Rossi, feeling terribly disappointed. She had sulked even more when Reid and Prentiss had shown up. The two of them hadn't announced anything, but their body language declared they were an item. They couldn't stop touching one another, and Prentiss was now staring at him and cheering every move he made on the board like it was the nineties and he was N'Sync.<p>

Not only that, Marian and Robert kept giving one another besotted glances across the chess board. It was ridiculous that Marian had to sit on Reid's, aka Robin Hood's, side of the board; it was obvious she was smitten by the sheriff. Still, they had to play the part in this ridiculous faire...something Penelope wished she'd never gone to now.

Hotch had shown up later in the evening with his girlfriend, Sharon. Because they were late to the tournament, neither Hotch nor his lady love showed up in costume. However, Jack had a little wooden sword and a shield and had been pretending to fight dragons for Henry's benefit.

Rossi stood with his fiancée, Betty-Anne, eating a turkey leg and wearing a glittering crown, sort of like Henry VIII. He'd forgone wearing a costume—he was far too urbane for anything but headgear of some sort—but Betty-Anne had worn a gypsy costume, complete with veils, jeweled coins around her waist, and finger cymbals. It was a successful costume; it kept Dave on his toes around her.

Grumbling to herself, Penelope thought of how similar Rossi and Derek were. He was too cool to wear a costume, too. She frowned even harder, causing her forehead to ache even more. She wished she'd stop thinking about him. It was so hard, being surrounded by so many couples that were romantically involved with each other.

For the first time in her life, she hoped and prayed Derek _wouldn't_ show up. She always loved being with him, but at this moment, she couldn't do it. Derek, of course, would indeed show up and stand right by her, _buddy_ that he was, and be repentant...but not notice what was really wrong.

That would kill her even more.

She was still heartbroken. Every day he was with her—every day—and yet, he never really saw her. To say those words, that a man would be blind not to notice someone in love with him, was like a direct slap to her. She'd _had _seven years of pining for him, for heaven's sake! Yes, she had Kevin, but she'd always put Derek on a far higher level. He had to have seen that...

Hadn't he?

At that moment, she noticed that Marian gestured for her to come over. Begrudgingly, she did. "Hello."

"How fair thee?" Marian asked, concern written in her forest green eyes.

"Not great, Marian."

The other woman paused, and then began softly, "Penelope… by any chance, did you think about what I had said earlier?" She truly looked far lovelier than she had earlier, the glow of love in her cheeks and radiating throughout her petite body.

Penelope's head hurt so much, she couldn't focus on anything, much less some barb Marian had said. "What was I supposed to be thinking about?"

Marian sighed and gave her a look that told her she should've been thinking. "I said you were blind to your own situation, remember?"

"Yes, but—"

"Did you ever think that maybe he was, too?" Marian interrupted, arching a fine brow at her. "That perhaps he thought he wasn't what you wanted, either?"

It seemed preposterous—the man was gorgeous, who wouldn't want him?—but she could see that happening. "Yes, but—"

"Men are simple creatures, Penelope. You learned that today watching me," she said again, dismissing Penelope's retort. "If _you_ can forgive yourself for not stepping up to the plate to tell him precisely what you wanted…can't you forgive him, too?"

Penelope pondered that, thought about her history with Derek, and the probabilty of the situation became far closer to an actuality. "I suppose I can," she whispered softly.

"Good!" At that moment, Robert made a move that put Reid in a precarious position on the chess board. "Oh, excuse me…._Huzzah,_ Sheriff! Excellent move!"

As she began to walk away from the crowd a bit, a familiar voice rang out behind Penelope.

"Hello, milady."

Penelope turned and couldn't believe her eyes. Standing there was Derek, dressed in a colorful court jester costume—purple, yellow, and green—complete with a hat with two points and bells on the end. It was rather ridiculous looking, and despite herself, she couldn't help but smile.

"Derek," she said, and then she chuckled a bit. "You're wearing hosen."

He shook his head, and the bells rang. "They're tights."

She was chuckling even more when she said, "Why…are you dressed like that?"

"Because, Princess," he said, stepping closer to her. "Jesters are known for being fools, right?" His warm, sincere melted chocolate eyes took her breath away. "Well, there's no bigger fool than me."

As the meaning of the gesture sunk in, her heart began to race and tears sprung to her eyes. Before she could respond, he stood even closer.

"There's a double meaning, sugar," he said softly, cupping her face in his hands. "I'm a fool in love, too."

"Oh, Derek…"

"Can you forgive me?" he whispered, using his thumb to wipe away an errant tear that had snuck down her cheek. "I've been such a blind idiot, Baby Girl."

"If you can forgive me," she replied. "I'm so sorry."

"I needed that," he said quickly, smiling at her. "Landing on my ass woke me up."

She giggled. "I'm usually a pacifist!"

"You're forgiven," he teased, and then the teasing glint left his eyes. "I love you, Penelope, you know that, right?"

"I love you, too."

He grinned at her again. "Does your nose itch, sweetheart?"

She laughed again.. "No, why?"

"Shoppe keeper told me your nose itches before you kiss a fool," he murmured hopefully.

Slowly, keeping his loving gaze locked with her own, Penelope brought her index finger to her nose…and scratched the bridge right under her glasses.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

_AN: Thanks so much to everyone who read this story! Thanks for letting me play with a different couple here, too...Does this story need an epilogue? Let me know... _

Penelope waited with baited breath. She'd wanted him to kiss her for years, since that first Baby Girl over seven years ago. She watched, anticipation thrumming through her, as Derek took that crucial step forward until there was no room between them. His heart was in his eyes, reflecting exactly what she felt in her soul, and she knew that for once—finally!—their time had come.

It was the busiest time of day, throngs of people were milling about the faire, but for Penelope, no one else existed. Nothing at all was going to stop them from being together. With gentle hands, Derek cupped her face and lowered his mouth to touch hers, and on that busy fall day, in the midst of a bustling crowd, Derek kissed her...and it was everything she had dreamed it would be.

Soft, sweet brushes of his lips against hers, infinitely tender as he discovered her mouth. He tested the waters to see what she liked, and yet there was a subtle demand, a temptation that made her wordlessly promise to give him more.

He lowered an arm behind her, drawing her closer, up and near his body, causing the heavy hooped skirt on her dress to bell behind her slightly. The starched silk of his colorful shirt tickled against the sensitive skin of her overflowing breasts, while at the same time, his tongue parted her lips, tickling her tongue and sending shivers of delight down her spine. She felt like a maiden in a Renaissance love story, and he...oh, he was the knight in shining armor, Prince Charming in disguise.

She clutched at his shoulders, gripping to stay balanced as he deepened the pressure not forcefully, but seductively. Her head dipped backward, and she was having trouble drawing air—trouble that had nothing at all to do with her corset.

With his other hand, he angled her face upward, so he could plunder more deeply in her mouth with his tongue. She didn't resist the invasion in the slightest; instead, she actively participated while he laid claim to her. She was his—she had been for years—as he was hers.

Derek began to kiss along the side of her neck, while he gripped her tighter with his hands, trying to feel his way through layers of clothing that she'd normally never wear. She was cursing this damned lovely dress now, wishing she'd worn something like Rossi's girlfriend, instead.

As she moaned when he returned his mouth to hers, something seemed off. Somewhere in her mind, she could hear clapping and cheering. It seemed the whole world approved of their romance, and she couldn't have been happier. Then the cheering increased, along with a few odd cries of "Huzzah!"

She opened her foggy eyes, blinking a few times, as she moved her lips away from his. It was then she noted that they were still in the middle of the dirt-lined street at the Renaissance faire, and more than a few revelers had stopped to stare at them. The cheering, however, was coming from the chess arena.

Reid. They'd promised to cheer on Reid.

"Derek..." she said to her dear, sweet lover, who was still kissing the side of her neck.

"Oh, baby," he growled against her throat, his soft beard gently abrading her skin. The low, passionate timbre of his voice sent chills down her spine. "_Damn_, girl, I want you..."

She groaned to herself. That was almost her undoing; for a split second, she thought about running to the nearest hay bale with him and turning it into a makeshift bed! Instead, she maintained some decorum.

The other could be for later...

She held her hands up between them, pressing softly. "D, there's a crowd."

That caused him to pause and raise his head. A second later, he stood and tucked her into his embrace, shielding her from the eyes of anyone else. "Sweetness...I'm sorry. I got carried away there."

She chuckled into his shirt. "I did, too. If I hadn't heard the chess crowd..."

He kissed the top of her head. "What chess crowd?" he asked, and then used his fingertips to tip her chin so that she had to look at him. "I only see you."

She knew he was teasing by the glint in his eyes, but it was still a very sweet thing to say.

"That's nice, Hot Stuff, but we need to go cheer on our Boy Wonder." She paused for a second and giggled. "Hmm...Boy Wonder...Robin...Robin Hood. Think he did that on purpose?"

"No, sweetheart," Derek answered. "I think that's just in your devilish mind."

Another cheer erupted from the crowd. "Ooh! Let's hurry!" she said, curiosity killing the Penelope. They ran, hand in hand, to where the rest of the team was standing.

* * *

><p>"Well, look at you two!" Prentiss said with a smile as she watched Morgan and Garcia joining their party again.<p>

"Looks like we have a set of new lovebirds," JJ teased, bouncing Henry on her hip.

"Judging from the whisker burn on Garcia's neck, pretty _happy_ lovebirds," Rossi quipped, causing Prentiss to laugh and Garcia to blush.

JJ levered a stare at Prentiss. "Em, I wouldn't laugh too loudly...you had _similar markings_ earlier."

Em laughed. It took a lot more to embarrass her. "It was worth it."

Penelope leaned closer to Derek, positively glowing with happiness. "For me, too."

"Enough kissy talk," Rossi remarked. "We need to watch this match."

"I bet it's like watching paint dry," Morgan added sarcastically.

"No, it's interesting," Hotch replied, and then gave a sardonic grin. "It's not full contact sports, but it's got its high points."

"Who's winning?" Penelope asked, trying to see the board.

Emily's stomach sank as she said, "The Sheriff of Nottingham."

She'd tried so hard to loosen Reid up, to make it so he didn't panic, didn't seize up and make ridiculous mistakes out of nerves. Now, she wondered if maybe she should've let him practice his moves.

She quickly discarded that thinking.

"He's psyching himself out," Rossi said, peering at Reid. "Look at how he's clenching his hands, thinking about that next move."

Rossi was right; when things were flowing right for Spencer, he spoke with his hands, excited and animatedly. This wasn't good.

"He just needs some cheering," Penelope said softly.

"What are we gonna do, Baby Girl?" Derek asked teasingly. "The _wave_?"

"No," Emily said, gathering resolve. Garcia was right; he did need cheering, but not the kind that she was thinking of. "This is a job for me."

Pushing her way to the front of the line of serious, hard core chess spectators, she called out, "Robin Hood!"

Looking up from his perch at the edge of his side of the board, Reid glanced over at her.

"Yarr!" she called out in her best Salty Sally voice. "Ye be winnin' this for us tonight, matey...and I'll share me _booty_ with ye."

Sure enough, Reid's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and then he grinned, a deliciously beautiful, boyish grin filled with joy. Nodding his acquiescence, he looked back at the board.

Gameplay continued for another half an hour. The round had been evenly matched, and then Reid called out, "King to C1."

Robert took his move next, and Reid called out, "Rook to B1."

Again, Robert moved.

Reid's grin nearly split his face. "Knight to C3."

"What in the hell is that?" Robert called out, for the first time using no trace of British accent and no old English terms.

As Prentiss noticed what Reid had done, she smiled and whispered to herself, "It's brilliance."

Reid stood. "That, my dear Robert," he said, rolling his _R_ like Robert always did, "is _checkmate_."

The crowd cheered again, and Robert threw his plumed hat in the middle of the ring and stomped off, with Marian quickly following.

Emily ran over and threw herself into Reid's waiting arms. "Congratulations!"

The rest of the team came over and congratulated Reid on his victory. He kept Emily by his side, his arm possessively draped across her shoulder.

As everyone spoke, he leaned down and whispered in her ear, "Still sharing the spoils with me, Sally?"

She looked up at him with obvious, gleeful agreement written on her face. "That's _Salty Sally_ to ye!"

"Time to go, kids," Rossi called out. "Faire's closing."

Side by side, the team left the faire, happy and joyful after a day filled with happiness, excitement, and newly found love.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

_AN: I am going to be posting the next story a bit later. Sorry for the break in the action! Thanks so much for the reviews; you have no idea how much they brighten my day and make me feel so much better...This chapter is dedicated to my fanfiction friends for caring and to my best friend of the past 28 years, Darla, who can make me laugh and smile, even when I am fretting over pushing forty. I love you all very much..._

_**One year later**..._

"Do you have your costume on?" Penelope called up the flight of stairs to the bedroom she shared with Derek. They'd been living together for nearly a year, and she learned that he took about as much time in the bathroom getting ready as she did—if not more, for certain occasions.

"Yeah," he answered, exiting the bedroom and heading down the stairs. Sir Derek the Brave was quite the most handsome knight Lady Penelope had ever seen. He lacked the shining armor, but he was still her noir Prince Charming, and always would be.

He stepped up to her and gave her a kiss on the lips, and then opened the door for her to head to the car where Reid and Prentiss were waiting.

Robin Hood was leaning against the car, whispering sweet nothings to the new and improved Maid Marian. The other Marian—who's real name was Bridget O'Leary—had been more than happy to give that name up so that she could join the side of the Sheriff of Nottingham. That made perfect sense for Prentiss to take the name; it only seemed right that the true lady love of Robin Hood could cheer him on.

"Get a room, you two," Penelope teased as Reid brushed a kiss on Prentiss's lips.

"Oh, puh-leese," Emily quipped back, winking at Garcia with a beaming smile. Both relationships were blossoming and growing at an incredibly quick pace, judging by the rings on the hands of both of the ladies.

"If we are going to make the match in time, we need to leave post haste," Reid commented, opening the door for Prentiss.

Derek cracked a smile. "_Post haste_? Getting into the medieval groove already, huh, Pretty Boy?"

Before Reid climbed in, he answered, "Quiet, _knave_, and get in the car."

"Knave?" Derek grumbled, giving Penelope a wounded look as she climbed in.

"Just get in, dear," she pacified with a sweet smile.

After they were buckled in, they all started out towards the long distance to the faire, ready to meet the rest of the BAU family that was probably already waiting there. Last year, they had all determined it was such a wonderful time, they'd decided to make it a yearly event.

"Hit the gas, kid; I'm hungry," Derek commented. He usually drove and was kind of antsy when someone else did.

"I'm going the speed limit," Reid answered. "Gas mileage is highly improved when recommended speed limits are followed. In fact, studies have shown-"

"Hit the gas, dear," Emily interrupted, smiling the same sweet smile Penelope'd had. However, Prentiss added a squeeze to Reid's thigh and added in a low tone, "I'm hungry, too..."

For whatever she was hungry for, Reid quickly raised the speed they were traversing.

"I want a popover," Penelope said, and then added, "Ooh! And Quiche. I want that quiche they had at that one booth."

"I want legs," Derek commented, leering at Penelope. "Turkey and yours, momma."

"That's a given, lover," she answered, giving him a kiss.

"Now who needs that room?" Prentiss archly commented, glancing at the couple in the backseat of the car, and bringing them full circle again...as would happen over and over again for most of the rest of the long drive out to the Renaissance Faire...a Faire they would always remember.


End file.
